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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461005">Wranduin Drabbles and Prompt Fills</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/pseuds/Laeviss'>Laeviss</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wranduin! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anduin being a good dad, Cis Anduin, Colors, Coming Out, Discord prompts, Drabbles, Family, Implied/Referenced Childbirth, Love Confessions, M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Pregnancy (Vague), Trans Wrathion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:42:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,507</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24461005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeviss/pseuds/Laeviss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Wranduin drabbles, including my fills for the monthly Wranduin discord prompts!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Wranduin! [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1756381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. May: Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written for the Wranduin discord prompt "family." I am working on a longer story set in this AU, but for now, here is a drabble! Heads up for trans (unplanned) pregnancy and political drama. If that isn't your thing, you may want to skip this one.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The door to the healing chamber opened, and the light from within had barely touched the stone floor of the hallway before Anduin was on his feet. Pushing himself from the bench, he hurried forward, not bothering to hide his limp despite the numerous guards and nobles looking on. His heart pounded in his throat. </p><p>He swallowed, but still his voice sounded thick and strained when he croaked out a soft, “Is he all right?” He could feel the eyes of every person in the crowd trained on his back. </p><p>“He’s fine,” the healer gently bowed her head, readjusting the small bundle she carried wrapped in her arms. Anduin followed her gaze down to it, and as he approached, he heard a faint—and slightly gasped—cry. It was only then that the full truth of the moment started to sink in like a heavy mantle thrown about his shoulders.</p><p>Eyes widened, and lips drawn tight in a line, he took another step closer and murmured, as if trying to discuss a secret of the utmost discretion, “And the baby?”</p><p>The young king knew, as he spoke the words, that he was asking much more than how the baby fared, and it seemed from the careful way the nurse shifted her weight that she felt the full extent of the question, as well. Her hand moved to the back of the bundle’s head, nudging away the swaddling cloth to reveal the profile of a tiny, human-like face. </p><p>At the sight, Anduin’s pulse quickened, but his tightly drawn shoulders started to relax. He reached forward, not stopping until his fingers slid between the woman’s forearm and the backside of the now-squirming bundle. </p><p>It took a moment for Anduin to ease the child into his arms, but when he drew her in, he was immediately swept up in a rush of warmth. Although he could feel the healer watching him closely, and he could hear the guards shifting their weight somewhere behind him, in that moment all he cared to consider was the baby moving gently against the front of his tunic. </p><p>Sucking in a breath, he looked down. Two tiny grey eyes peered back up at him, and two lips that parted to let out another small cry. The warmth of the child’s body seemed to spread throughout Anduin’s chest, and before he knew it, he was consumed by a rush like nothing he had felt before. </p><p>The king beamed. He felt as if he might burst. Trailing his fingers along the swaddling cloth around her face, he nudged it back to reveal dark curls, not at all unlike her other father’s curls, and dark skin that nearly matched his hue. But in her nose and eyes, Anduin saw himself. </p><p>Willing his hand to stop quivering, the king brought it to rest against the back of her head, repositioning her so she could press her cheek against the soft silk of his shirt. It took him a moment to realize the nurse was speaking to him once more, but then he heard something that drew him completely and suddenly back into the moment:</p><p>“He wishes to call her Taria, after your grandmother, sir.”</p><p>“And perhaps you can remind him that he has no right to choose this child’s name.”</p><p>The sound of Genn’s voice behind him tore Anduin from any chance he had to react to Wrathion’s selection. Instinctively, the young king tightened his hold on his child, then turned on his heels to face the older monarch. His leg ached at the sudden movement, but it felt like little more than an annoyance next to the defensiveness that seized and gripped Anduin’s heart. </p><p>He stared across the hall at Genn and the nobles flanking him on both sides. He fought to shove down his anger, if only so the small baby bundled in his arms didn’t feel him shake. He was only marginally successful. “I will call her Princess Taria II, after my grandmother,” Anduin repeated the name, cursing the way his breath hitched when he spoke. If only he had Wrathion’s confidence, or his late father’s defiance. If only every word he uttered didn’t come out sounding so pained.</p><p>The noble standing beside King Greymane wrinkled his nose, and the guard waiting off to his right bristled noticeably, but to Genn’s credit, he managed to keep his expression relatively calm. Even so, it did nothing to lessen the blow of the painful words he uttered next: “I see, your Majesty. So, I trust she is human appearing, at least, despite her—” </p><p>“She is my child,” Anduin cut him off, having no intention of entertaining that line of questioning. His voice rose, made stronger by the protective impulse that suddenly overcame him. He rubbed Taria’s back and made a point of shielding her from the onlookers’ view, “And if you will excuse me, I would like to take her back in to see her other father.”</p><p>His sudden declaration had the effect he had expected. Any attempt at remaining cordial vanished in an instant, and the retinue of nobles all straightened and glowered, huffing, doing nothing to mask their gritted teeth or the angry heat rising to their faces. This time it wasn’t Genn who spoke, but another man Anduin recognized as one of the sons of Lord Ridgewell: “Your Majesty, let me remind you of my family’s terms on this matter. We struck an agreement, and we expect the House of Wrynn to uphold it.”</p><p>“You strong-armed Wrathion into renouncing his right to see his own child, you mean,” Anduin pointed out, simply, doing nothing to mince his words. At the sound of Wrathion’s name, the man blinked, then tightened his hand into a fist by his side. Glancing down at it, Anduin swallowed, and again found him pulling Taria close to his heart. She whimpered slightly as the voices around him rose; he quickly murmured a spell under his breath, and soon she was enveloped in radiant golden light.   </p><p>The sudden glow drew Ridgewell’s gaze, but Anduin didn’t wait for anyone to comment on it. Swallowing and willing his voice to stay smooth and steady, he continued with every ounce of strength and honesty he could muster, “And I burned it and drafted a new one, because this is our child, and I will not keep my child from her father.”</p><p>The blood drained from Anduin’s cheeks as he finished the final few words, but the rage and defiance he expected never came. Instead the whole crowd stood frozen like statues. Genn Greymane’s face looked ashen in the dim hallway light, and scarcely a sound escaped any of them. If not for the gentle noises coming from Taria, Anduin suspected he could have heard the pounding of their hearts. </p><p>Realizing with a rush that for once they were looking on him as a king, and that the wideness of their eyes and tightness of their jaws were the only protests they could rightfully give, Anduin straightened. He squared his shoulders and shifted Taria so she was resting more comfortably in his arms.</p><p>The glow that surrounded her illuminated her small features, and when Anduin looked down upon her, he knew he was looking upon not just his child, but his legacy, and Wrathion’s legacy, and the symbol of two warring powers brought together through love. Smiling, and doing nothing, now, to hide how overcome he was by her, he traced a finger along her cheek, then let it rest gently in the palm of her tiny hand.</p><p>Despite all the emotion and frustration and fear that had churned within him, now Anduin found himself at peace. Blinking back tears, he turned and left the nobles to linger behind him in the shadows. He looked to the healer, whose lips were pursed into what could only be described as a conflicted mien, and nodded once more. Again, he lowered his voice as if he were speaking only to her:</p><p>“I trust Wrathion will want to meet her immediately. I know I’ve been advised not to enter, but if you’d please, I’d like to take her to meet her birth father.”</p><p>“Of course, sir,” the healer softly—and only slightly hesitantly—acquiesced. She stepped back into the door until it swung open to frame her in golden light. Anduin looked past her into the room beyond and found Wrathion, his sweaty curls stuck to his brow and his crimson eyes wide as he looked from the child to Anduin, then back to the child.</p><p>The dragon's slit pupils grew, until they had all but overcome the light of his eyes. It took a moment, but finally his lips parted, and, tired as he looked and sounded, he managed lift himself from the bed and utter a gentle: "My dear."</p><p>Anduin came to stand beside him, and, with a gentle smile, lowered their child into his arms.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. June: Colors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Anduin comes to grips with his sexuality and his attraction to Wrathion. Written for the Wranduin discord prompt for June, "Colors!"</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did something intentional with the prompt here. If anyone catches it, please let me know in a comment! :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anduin Wrynn was already midway into his feelings the first time he put a name to them. At first, he realized his visits with his advisor were growing longer and more frequent. Then he started to trace the feeling that built up in the pit of his chest every time he received a missive from Silithus: a kind of anxious anticipation that conjured images of Wrathion’s eyes blazing at him from across his desk and sent the blood rushing to Anduin’s various extremities. </p><p>Every time, he cleared his throat, swallowed away any tightness building in his shoulders, and reassured himself that everyone felt this way when looking forward to meeting an old friend. Even when the tips of his ears grew pink, he merely swept his bangs behind them and turned his mind to whatever business Wrathion had stated in the missive. He suspected from time to time that his friend might be creating excuses to travel to him, but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Dwelling led to questioning and questioning to tension and uncertainty. </p><p>The king found it easier to push the matter to the side than to let it lead him down a road of increasingly difficult realizations. It worked for a time; he got remarkably skilled at relaxation techniques he learned from his fellow priests, and he stuck to them. </p><p>All of that changed, however, the day a series of letters arrived from Silithus that shook Anduin down to his core. </p><p>The first message came from Kalec—frantically scribbled, so unlike the measured hand with which he wrote his holiday addresses to the kingdom. <i>Wrathion fell to N’Zoth,</i> it read. <i>The champions will enter Ny’alotha in pursuit.</i> Anduin had barely managed to still his shaking hands before another, even more hastily scrawled than the last, arrived by Blacktalon agent on the parapet outside his window: </p><p>
  <i>It was a trick. Wrathion was captured. He is free, and intends to face the old god himself.</i>
</p><p>Attraction Anduin had been able to explain away, but the sobs that had wracked his body that night drove home the truth he had done everything to avoid. He had squeezed closed his eyes and longing for Wrathion had welled in the pit of his chest. Anduin had shuddered and prayed that those crimson eyes would glow for him once again.</p><p>Thankfully, Wrathion had survived, and he had come to Stormwind to recover from his injuries. The passion Anduin had felt that night when he wasn’t sure if Wrathion would live never withered, but his own conflicted feelings and responsibilities surrounded that blossom like weeds and threatened to choke it out.</p><p>Anduin would go to Wrathion's chamber every morning, always offering to look over the dragon's injuries. But every time he reached out to touch him, he hesitated, not knowing if he would be able to withdraw his hand and terrified what doors his boldness might force open. </p><p>As a teenager, he had often wondered why thoughts of marriage and children had left him feeling so hopeless, why he had been so indifferent towards the girls who approached him at the Stormwind ball. The pieces now fell into place, but that didn’t everything made sense. He took to pacing the Keep courtyard at noon and staring out at the sun shimmering on the surface of the lake. He found in its shine the very Light itself, reaching out to it and pleading that the way would somehow be made clear. </p><p>How was he to carry on his father’s legacy while staying true to himself and his feelings? He watched the waves ripple and let the sun warm his cheeks, drying the tears prickling at the corners of his sky-blue eyes. </p><p>Despite his anxieties, he found himself wandering to Wrathion’s room with even greater frequency, then took to spending entire weekends by his side. The dragon’s injuries quickly mended, and one night he suggested, none too subtly, that he wished to spend time alone with Anduin outside the city. </p><p>It was difficult to convince the royal guards to permit them privacy, but they eventually conceded, and Wrathion carried Anduin on his back to the hills to the east of the city. They sat beneath a tree and talked—about the city’s architecture, about Elwynn’s beauty in the height of summer, about the butterflies that had fluttered in Anduin’s chest as the dragon swooped him up into the sky. </p><p>About everything except the one matter weighing most heavily on Anduin’s mind. As they sat side-by-side, however, and the king caught the dragon stealing increasingly longer glances in his direction, he was able to put at least one of his worries to rest. </p><p>Wrathion seemed to share his feelings. Putting the thought into words made Anduin’s heart tremble, filling him with equal parts nerves and relief. His fingers quiver as he threaded them between the blades of grass that poked up between them. </p><p>When it came time to return to the Keep, Anduin carefully climbed back on the drake’s back. He pressed his cheek against a patch of smooth scales just left of his spine and inhaled, wondering if he should simply say what seemed to be on both of their minds. </p><p>Instead, he just nuzzled the dragon’s neck with the tip of his nose and stayed otherwise silent. The gesture earned a low rumble from somewhere beneath him, but for once even Wrathion seemed to be struggling to find his voice.</p><p>It wasn’t until the Midsummer fireworks the following week that the two of them found that level of privacy again. Anduin made sure to clear out the royal chamber for the event. He explained to a very reluctant Genn that he wanted Wrathion to get a full experience of the display rather than contending with the other nobles in the courtyard. Genn suggested that Anduin extend the offer to a selection of young noblewomen, as well, but Anduin respectfully, though adamantly, refused. He answered no further questions and kept the door to his room bolted shut.</p><p>The two men leaned against Anduin’s balcony and watched the sky darken from orange to blue. They chatted as casually as Anduin could manage and waited for the first fizzle and pop of fireworks to ascend from the heart of the city. </p><p>The first rocket shot up into the sky and exploded into a burst of arcane light. The second—a pandaren creation—spiraled off in a thousand directions, leaving golden streaks in its wake. Each explosion lit up Wrathion’s face, and with every passing moment, Anduin became increasingly aware of the warmth radiating from his arm and the way his hand rested gracefully against the ivory balustrade. </p><p>The king sucked in a breath. The next firework sparked a burst of confidence in his chest, and he reached down, threading his fingers ever-so-carefully between Wrathion’s and letting the palm of his hand rest  tentatively against the back of Wrathion’s hand. </p><p>For a moment, neither moved. Another rocket exploded before them, and when it illuminated Wrathion’s face Anduin caught his lips pursing in an unreadable line. Before he had time to question it or consider what he should say, however, Anduin felt the hand beneath him starting to tighten. </p><p>For a single, horrifying moment Anduin thought the dragon was poised to recoil. He soon discovered, with a flood of relief, that Wrathion instead had turned his hand to deepen the contact between them. The king wanted so badly to look down and study that point of contact, but for a moment, he didn’t. </p><p>It was only after the tightness in his chest started to unwind and his breathing returned to normal that he chanced a peek in the other man’s direction. He found Wrathion looking solemn. Rather than his usual charming smile and the flirtatious twinkle Anduin had started to catch in his glowing eyes, he looked pensive, concerned. </p><p>It took a moment for Anduin to summon his voice, and even longer to find a lull in the firework blasts long enough to speak, but with much difficulty, he finally began, in a voice barely above a whisper: “Is this okay?”</p><p>“It’s more than okay, my dear,” Wrathion murmured with some of his usual poise. His face, however, remained unchanged. </p><p>Hoping the dragon would say more, Anduin gave his hand an encouraging squeeze. When he returned it, Anduin traced the pad of his thumb along the side of Wrathion’s hand. Another flash lit the royal balcony, and when it did, Wrathion’s tightly drawn lips finally started to loosen. Anduin angled his shoulder forward, allowing him to turn just enough to study the dragon in profile.</p><p>The human spoke again, this time with slightly more confidence, “I hope this isn’t sudden, but I—I’ve realized a lot lately, about myself, about us.”</p><p>“I’m glad you have,” the dragon admitted in return. His lips spread into a familiar smirk, and finally the Wrathion Anduin had come to love and desire started to return. He eased their hands, still entangled, off the balcony ledge so that he might turn and take a step closer to Anduin. “I have been waiting quite a while, you see, and I wasn’t sure how to properly broach the subject to someone of your station.”</p><p>“Is that so?” Arching his brow, Anduin gazed up at him. The human expected his body to tense at the closeness, but instead, he felt very much like himself. They fit together. It felt <i>right.</i> He chuckled and continued to tease, “So you decided to let me stew about it alone? I thought dragons were known for their skill with words.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, but some feelings are rather difficult to explain, especially to a mortal. I didn’t want to seem <i>forthright.</i>”</p><p>“How long have you known?” Anduin asked, studying Wrathion’s face in earnest. Again, he traced Wrathion’s thumb from its base to its tip, and again, the flash of a rocket lit the smile spread across Wrathion’s features.</p><p>“About myself? Oh, you know,” Wrathion gave their arms a slight swing, in lieu of what would have likely been a flick of his wrist, “Since the Tavern, I suppose. And what about you, my dear?”</p><p>‘Since the Tavern,’ Anduin repeated to himself. His pulse quickened as he realized just how long Wrathion had waited, and he had to fight back a wave of regret as his thoughts turned to what they might have shared had he not avoided addressing his own feelings. A bit sheepish, he mustered a smile, and replied under his breath, “Ah, more recently, I guess. It took a lot of thinking.”</p><p>“I know,” Wrathion nodded. Unlike Anduin, there was no hint of regret in his voice. He simply gave the king’s hand another squeeze, then released it, leaning in, instead, to thread his arm around Anduin’s waist. Anduin stepped in until his forehead rested against the tip of Wrathion’s chin, and he hugged him. They stood together in silence as firework after firework rattled the windows at their side.</p><p>After a time, Anduin felt Wrathion turning his head and bringing his cheek to rest against the king's bangs. He felt him inhale, and felt the tip of his beard tickle the side of his face. Digging his fingers into the small of the dragon’s back and studying his deep purple tunic, Anduin yielded the burden he had carried and let all his fears and questions and uncertainties start to unwind. </p><p>As if Wrathion could read his thoughts, he spoke up, with a few carefully chosen words: “I suspect this isn’t going to be easy for you.”</p><p>“I know,” Anduin admitted with a slight nod of his head. He waited for the final crackle of fireworks to fade, nudging his fingers up under Wrathion’s sash and clinging to him, until he finally allowed himself to confess what he hadn’t yet put into coherent thought:</p><p>“I know, but I don’t care. This is who I am, and I want us both to be happy.”</p><p>With that, Wrathion pulled him in even tighter. Anduin trembled as he felt the brush of the dragon’s lower lip against the crown of his head.</p>
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